Easter is just around the corner, and on Facebook and Pinterest, I’m seeing all kinds of people posting pics of these adorable baby chick deviled eggs.
But take it from me: RUN! RUN for the hills! Run for your life, far, far away from any temptation to make this dastardly recipe!
These fluffy little posers want you to believe they’re simply a fun alternative to boring ol’ deviled eggs, but don’t fall for their cunning deceit.
Although, “Deviled” is the right word for these little spawns of Satan.
Y’all know I can cook. I also have an art degree and love making things pretty. Everybody loves my food and my crafts, so last Easter, these precious wittle babies just lured me in! I couldn’t wait to hear the “Oohs!” and “Aaahs!” of my impressed guests when I placed them as the centerpiece on our Easter dinner table.
There were a few “Oohs!” at the table, but they sounded more like “Ewws…” to me.
I try not to cuss during Lent, but last Easter eve, I had to repent every 20 seconds. Because trying to scoop yolks out of nearly-whole eggs, without ripping the white, was next to impossible. And then re-stuffing them without creating more gaping wounds was another whole level of impossible.
I usually prefer to cook by myself, but this time, I threw in the towel and begged my crafty sisters to help me triage the dying birds.
After an hour or two, we were fighting over who would get to use the noose first.
This is the hot mess we ended up with, after HOURS of work.
Every single one of these Frankenchicks has a huge, gaping crack up its back and couldn’t have stood up straight under any circumstance.
Our canned olives were mushy and wouldn’t cut into neat little circles.
I had lettuce to decorate the platter, but decided not to waste it.
The oozing blobs in the middle represent the moment we stopped caring.
I think the scattered pile of remaining carrot beaks adds to the overall crappy design, don’t you?
Epic Pinterest fail.